Prologue: Before World War III…
My head was swimming. I kept telling myself I definitely, definitely was not dreaming. But my head kept swimming. I looked at my sister and my mother getting out of the car and suddenly everything seemed so apocalyptic the buildings around me were greyand orange and brown and it didn’t seem right. [something] didn’t seem right. I don’t remember what happened here.
The Beginning
This is about a recluse who lived in a ONE-ROOM APARTMENT COMPLEX and didn’t have much to do all DAY so he LAY in his BED and DREAMT all
DAY
Except now he’s out getting a fish sandwich. The time is 6:08 PM. The streets are slick with oil from the last oil rain. There’s no people, just a bunch of umbrellas moving in procession. The umbrellas are identical in make and identical in color.
This recluse, he’s you, he’s standing in line. You’re standing in line. The woman in front of you is taking forever to make up her mind. You think bad thoughts about her. You think maybe this woman should have made up her mind before she got to the counter. She looks about fifty and is wearing fifty or more pounds of makeup on her face. Her purse jingles like there’s coins inside. She’s making a row now, and you look around you at the other people in line and you want to see if anybody else is angry, pissed off at this lady that doesn’t make up her mind. But all the faces you look at look just the same – blank and indifferent. You think about your own face in your head (seeing it when you woke up this morning) and you realize all the faces you saw look just like you. You’re surrounded by copies of yourself. It’s enough to make anyone go… mad… but… you’re here to get a fish sandwich… No need to get worked up. Your mind is playing tricks on you.
Pre-night. Blue police sirens and atmospheric fog swells over sea of citizens. Horizontal columns of green light flow out from the restaurant.
This recluse, he’s being taken out in handcuffs. He just beat an old lady to death in a fast food joint. There’s blood leaking out the front door, blood that looks like black ink in green light. He really made a mess of things.
You take your phone out and pretend like you’re texting somebody. You really can’t wait. You know, to get your food, take the bus back to your place, flop down on the couch, finish that joint, eat some fucking food. Yeah, that’s something to look forward to. Finally the lady finishes ordering and you order your fish sandwich and stand and wait for a bit then get your greasy brown bag trailing ketchup packets as you leave the place.
The End
Fall asleep to declarations of war on the television screen. He gets up in the middle of the night to get something to drink. But there’s nothing in the fridge. So he checks the microwave. There’s nothing in the microwave. So he checks his garage. There’s nothing in the garage. So he checks the closet. There’s a glass jar filled with blood in the closet. He doesn’t know how that got there but he isn’t all that disturbed, either. He doesn’t drink the jar. He goes back to sleep. Then you realize the television isn’t on. You never turned the television off. Or you don’t remember that you did. Who turned it off?
Epilogue: Before World War III…
We fell asleep in the field. The sun shined on me. It was morning.
I walked her to her house. I held her hand. She didn’t kiss me.
Later, I walked to the field and disappeared.
